Forever cracking. Forever living. Forever remembering. Forever learning. Forever devastated. Forever happy. The states of life I have learned to live with both separately, sometimes in pairs, but more often all at the same time. ❤️
Thinking about you on the narrowboat... and how last time you were on a narrowboat we were with grandma and we scattered mum's ashes... and the time before that we were with mum, and it was maybe the time before that we were with mum on the Llangollen canal and went over that aqueduct...and how i ent over that aqueduct when i was a child and i was with my mum...there is a kind of lineage of grief in everyone's life, I think, and these triggering situations can help us. Because, as you say, these deep emotions need to be faced... and that's one of the functions of good theatre, or good writing in general, in that it triggers deep feelings and enables us to feel them and confront them, and heal from them...
I can really relate to everything you have described here. The sensation when the disconnect from my brain kicks in, cutting off any feeling and my body takes over, is a relief from the acute heartache. But it's a disarming feeling all the same. I feel like I'm floating through life, going through the motions but not feeling any of it, not really caring that much. As you say... just numb.
I've regularly fallen back on old coping mechanisms that just don't work long term, no matter how measured or manically I try (throwing myself in to work, drinking, exercise, long nights out, being on the go all the time). Doesn’t really matter how I mask it - the similar theme is that I can’t really feel any of it and I feel like I’m actually watching someone else live my life. It’s all disjointed. It’s such an odd sensation.
How long I'm like that for and the method I snap out of it varies - but recently it has been just been a slow creep away from the numb by being with people who know how I feel, have been through what I have. Essentially, where I dont have to explain or pretend. Sometimes the people that I’d expect would make me feel better actually make me feel worse. Then there have been others (including my dog) that have turned things around for me, without even realising it.
Thank you for putting all this on the page. I hope you’re feeling better. xx
Forever cracking. Forever living. Forever remembering. Forever learning. Forever devastated. Forever happy. The states of life I have learned to live with both separately, sometimes in pairs, but more often all at the same time. ❤️
Such a strange way to live that can be so hard to explain to people who have not been there. xxx
Thinking about you on the narrowboat... and how last time you were on a narrowboat we were with grandma and we scattered mum's ashes... and the time before that we were with mum, and it was maybe the time before that we were with mum on the Llangollen canal and went over that aqueduct...and how i ent over that aqueduct when i was a child and i was with my mum...there is a kind of lineage of grief in everyone's life, I think, and these triggering situations can help us. Because, as you say, these deep emotions need to be faced... and that's one of the functions of good theatre, or good writing in general, in that it triggers deep feelings and enables us to feel them and confront them, and heal from them...
Yes, it's funny as writing helps so, so much but sometimes I wish I didn't feel the need to pour everything into work, and could just be...
I can really relate to everything you have described here. The sensation when the disconnect from my brain kicks in, cutting off any feeling and my body takes over, is a relief from the acute heartache. But it's a disarming feeling all the same. I feel like I'm floating through life, going through the motions but not feeling any of it, not really caring that much. As you say... just numb.
I've regularly fallen back on old coping mechanisms that just don't work long term, no matter how measured or manically I try (throwing myself in to work, drinking, exercise, long nights out, being on the go all the time). Doesn’t really matter how I mask it - the similar theme is that I can’t really feel any of it and I feel like I’m actually watching someone else live my life. It’s all disjointed. It’s such an odd sensation.
How long I'm like that for and the method I snap out of it varies - but recently it has been just been a slow creep away from the numb by being with people who know how I feel, have been through what I have. Essentially, where I dont have to explain or pretend. Sometimes the people that I’d expect would make me feel better actually make me feel worse. Then there have been others (including my dog) that have turned things around for me, without even realising it.
Thank you for putting all this on the page. I hope you’re feeling better. xx